Greetings
by Ms. Smiley Kills Your Dreams
Summary: The beginning of a new time in Mello's life and he has to meet them to live it. [Possible chapters to come. Maybe not.]


_A/N: Hello, again. This is the second Death Note fic I have barfed out of my forehead like Zeus and Athena. However, these aren't as great or magnificent as them so I guess we'll stick to just saying welcome to the second DN Fanfic of the week. I'm not too proud of it, since it was given birth to while I am sleep-deprived. That's great._

 _Anyways, read on and review please. I love to improve._

 _I do not own Death Note or its characters._

Black was a color that lost real reality. It was forgotten for the fear it caused, but remembered for its emptiness. Its signature was what it could hold inside of it. A future, a past, a present; no one would know. Black was mysterious and yet known completely. It lived; it died. It was alive; and it was dead. A full of mystery of time. However, its opposite was white.

White was a color that gripped beauty in the non-existent hand. It embodied purity, cleanliness, love, and many things black could not. It did the same as black: held the future, past, and present inside of it. It was signature was what would it could make someone feel, not what was inside. Whatever time the color white was in, it brought emotions black could not.

Black was a color emotions could drown and disappear in. Like giving up.

White was a color emotions could live and prosper in. Like holding on.

Black was bad?

White was good?

Black was good?

White was bad?

"My name's… Mello."

It was confrontation, to himself. He had to get used to being called "Mello," a rather odd name to be called. The haircut too, he thought as he saw himself in the bathroom mirror, was fitting. It framed the strong jawbone that held his powerful features. He looked sick, though. Bags under his eyes caused from sleep deprivation, pink outlining them from the constant rubbing away tears, and hollow cheeks from not being given enough food. He even had his knuckles still bandaged from punching someone on the ride to England.

 _"Now, Mello, you'll be glad to know there will be other children for you to befriend._ "

Friends? No, it was impossible. He looked unapproachable- no – more so unlikable. There was no world in which _children_ could just walk right up to someone like… him. He was destined to be alone, just as he was before. Alone on a mattress that was old enough to have been alive for the beginning of the universe. Alone in a room that smelled like someone cried themselves into death. Alone in a room a little like the one connected to the bathroom.

Mello had been through empty halls, where "kids were in class", and led to this bedroom. Half of it was an entire mess, but it seemed the mess had been organized into the side of the room that now was his own. It was all shoved over hastily, books piled over game cases, controllers strewn about, clothing thrown onto the messy bedsheets (how odd to have mostly just stripes for clothing), and many more things. The kid had to be obsessed with games, not even the games everywhere had to tell him, but the journals with cheats in certain games, gaming magazines, and the DS and PSP hidden under the mattress told him too.

"What a mess…"

The clothing was something he did understand though (other than why he chose stripes), because it seemed "Wammy" or whoever the guy was, he only gave Mello a few outfit choices before giving him copies of the outfits in large quantities. Black pants, black shirts, black long-sleeves, black shorts, black boxers, black… The list went on. He was allowed one special item through the gates into here and he already decided it to be his cross. It was his and no one could or would take it from him.

He was just starting to go through the boxes the other man, "Roger", left him to fit in or something when the door opened. A minimal amount of noise entered the room (the hallways are quiet?) and who entered proved to love his video games. He was barely paying attention as he walked in, a PSP (he needs two of them?) between bony fingers as removed his elbow from the position he so obviously used to open the door with. He didn't even notice the presence of Mello in his room, wearing white goggles that seemed to block out the outside of his vision. His feet, which were only covered by grey socks, padded over to his bed before pushing off the ground to huddle into some sort of hiding place within the clothing. Muffled beeping and shuffling were soon the only sounds in the room, despite the breathing, as the door shut itself.

Mello decided not to involve himself in unneeded conversation and save it for when he was settled in. He knew for sure he was going to be unable to leave for quite a while, so it's best to make the best of what he was forced to deal with. He unpacked the piles and piles of clothing into his sectioned-off area of the closet, folded pants and hung shirts. He then examined and lined up his new books on the hastily emptied bookcase. It was clear it was used beforehand as a controller area, which seemed rather odd for a book case. He was up to the point that he was almost done packing when the kid on the other bed rolled over, knocked off some clothes, and finally caught sight of the peculiar-looking blonde standing beside his clothing bed.

"Roger said..."He said, slowly sitting up and lowering his game into his lap. His sentence left unfinished as his lips stood agape,

Mello had to retrace his mind to the man from before and remembered the small moments that the man regarded to himself as "Roger". As fake as a plastic flower, his smile was tired and bored; why would someone take him seriously? Well, the kid did play video games a lot (it seemed so) and who knows just how much knowledge he really took in.

"Well, sorry to interrupt your... gaming session," He held back an eye roll of pure judgement (hope the kid didn't see his large supply of chocolate),"but, seeing as we are roommates from here on and you are paying attention now, wouldn't it be best to know your name?" Crossing his arms, he looked like almost a threat, but he was less one than some could believe. However, what was important was what he asked.

The boy in front of him pushed up his goggles for once (holy _shit_ , he had some nice eyes), a smirk appearing on his seemingly amused face. Mello's arms fell as he took a step back, the other leaning forward as his laughs escaped his rather wide lips. Furrowing his brows, Mello stared at him, flustered and utterly confused. "What the _fuck_ do you think you're laughing at?" It was less of an aggressive question, but more so hiding the real one: _are you going insane?!_

"Look, blondie, if you're going to survive here, you ask for nicknames, not names. They'll think you'll end up like the rumored "first gen" of Wammy's. The ghost of the first, even. Call me Matt, or -" the boy stopped himself short of grinning and laughing, looking away in a small amount of jealously, "well, lowercase m now."

"Wait, lowercase?" Mello knew just what his name his name was and he had been told of where he ended up in scores. _"You're in second place. That's quite impressive. It' seems an M with replace an M."_ His eyes took a glance of the room again as he thought about it. Almost immediately after he pieced it together (surprisingly less than a few seconds after he questioned him), he blurted out, "So you were the "m" they said I replaced, right?"

Matt's eyes dropped to the game in his hands as his face dropped the emotion. It was almost like a defense mechanism. "Well, yeah, dipshit. Did you think you replaced Marissa, the unknown second placer until you came around?" His interest seemed to die off suddenly from the conversation with him as he turned back to his bed, but Mello wasn't going to give in to emotionless dorks that wouldn't even give him explanations or anything before turning away. His hand grabbed the bony elbow beneath the baggy striped sleeves, tugging violently without intending to be as harsh. Matt lost his balance as he was spun around on basically one foot, but Mello's firm grip on his arm allowed him to steady the other boy quickly, a murmured apology leaving his lips as he hastily let go and shuffled his hands together.

Matt, straightening his goggles in his brown hair, studied the blonde as he found the words he needed. He expected a harsher tone than he was given, he expected a fiercer look than he was shown, and he expected much more terrifying eyes than he was presented (he was so human). It was all so... odd. Furrowed brows were supposed to make Mello look tougher (or so he believed), so he looked at Matt with a set jaw and furrowed brows, a failed attempt to look strong, as he spoke calmly, "So, why did you flip out at such a stupid topic to be pissed at? Not to mention, as your new roommate, aren't you supposed to show me around? I know why I'm here and where I'm ranked at the current moment, so why not just tell me where things are instead of ruining your eyes even more with those games of yours?"

Matt gave him a once-over, almost laughing at him for trying to be something he so obviously wasn't. Well, he wasn't outside. From what he'd seen and noticed of Mello by now, he seemed to be the type who can't quite control aggressive emotions and can't hold in emotion as easily as Matt could (too bad for him). Wammy's didn't seem so promising in Matt's eyes as he looked at Mello. With so much bubbling emotion that was too powerful to be contained, he was not going to be as much as L-like as one could think. Second place, so much potential, and yet it was wasted by his emotional status. Disappointing, really.

He sighed as he tried to assess the situation. He had options (not really) that he decided he would choose from, rather than being told he had to show this guy around. Out of them all, he only took a small amount of minutes to shorten it down to at least two. The other few were pointless, stupid, boring, or just not planned out well enough. He did have more though. Anyways, out of them all, he was left with the choices to either show him around or -

"Hey, are you awake? Seriously, now or never. I was told I had to meet students after the tour and I plan to track down the number one fist thing. We have to get this moving." Blue eyes declared impatience to be a family trait and determination to make his life have some sort of meeting newly born. It was rather... enticing. He pretended to groan and his shake of the head seemed to set off a reaction in Mello that was similar to offense, but a little more hurt. It was funny how Matt, someone who constantly covered his eyes, could see hidden things in others after one greeting.

"Yeah, yeah, we'll go. However, on school tours, do we have to pay attention to explaining the historical shit to you?" It was always a question he had for Linda, someone who so easily led people around Wammy's with such a happy face. How did she do it? Was it because she was a girl? Was it because her parents were better to her? Maybe it was option three. Sadly, though, Linda always rolled her eyes at him when he asked those questions or stomp away. What was her problem?

Mello, as well, rolled his eyes at Matt (the fuck?!) and pulled the door open, almost growling under his breath as he waited for him, "Of course, you do, dumb ass! Tours aren't just to get around, it's to learn as well. How did I end up in a "great teaching place" with such a "great idiot"?" Matt smirked at him as he tugged him into the empty hallways, his goggles pulled over his green eyes as they marched down the corridor.

Near focused his eyes on the new one before him. He saw his mouth moving, but gave the words no thought. While a few were taken into consideration, he just assessed the blonde boy, ignoring the now-in-third-place Matt in the background. His haircut was rather odd for someone with such a deep voice and a though exterior, yet it gave him an "angel-like glow" to match his crystal blue eyes. (However, he looks kind of mad for someone so "angel-like," though I don't think he is an angel.) He seemed to have chosen much darker clothes than himself, coincidentally the exact opposite. Long-sleeved, black shirts and baggy all-black pants, while near wore a white button-up and baggy white pants. It seemed that was another thing that made them so different, adding on the completely different personalities. "Mello," as this one was named, was more emotionally controlled and emitted an aura of pure annoyance. Near was more logically driven and gave off an emotionless aura. Hm.

"Are you listening?"

Near nodded absentmindedly at his Transformers toy, raising an arm on it as he looked at Mello from underneath the plastic toy. "Yes, Mello. Nice to meet you too. I am pleased to hear you made it to second place; congratulations. Matt, I am sorry to know you were debunked and I hope you will try your hardest to make it up for L." With those meaningless words, he placed the toy on the ground and turned to set of blocks he had turned into a castle much earlier in the day, before class it seemed. He didn't mind nor care for the glares he was receiving and began to build up his tower with more pointless rooms over rooms.

As he continued, Mello tried a great many times to get Near's attention once more, frowning as his voice thundered throughout the room as he shouted. Matt took his arm and dragged him from the room, mildly surprised at how much Mello seemed to feel. It was kind of expected though, wasn't it?

This greeting was not the first time Matt and Near had interacted, but it was enough for them to acknowledge each other more. Thus began the years in Wammy's that were seemingly more active mainly because of the three top students. Their real names were not known throughout the building or shared between each other (until much, much later) in the building, but they got far enough without needing them to live.


End file.
